


Redemption

by lovelykenobi



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:42:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7048255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelykenobi/pseuds/lovelykenobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The years after Mustafar, from Darth Vader and Obi Wan's eyes, and the hidden motivations behind the actions of the two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redemption

**Author's Note:**

> I was incredibly emotional while writing this. If you want to be as emotional as me, listen to "War of Hearts" by Ruelle and 2 Heads by Coleman Hell while reading, or just [this playlist](http://8tracks.com/stresssedout/w-a-r-o-f-h-e-a-r-t-s)

Part One; Obi-Wan   
Obi-Wan wanted to say that the first few days after were the worst. That the pain faded away into nothingness after the first weeks, that it was easy to forget.

The Jedi Code forbade attachment. He reminded himself this like a mantra, but the hurt led to anger, a bitter twisted feeling that collected in the pit of his stomach and he dragged with him. It was so much easier to deny the feelings and push them away when Anakin was alive, when he was still of the light.

The Jedi Order was history now, the code only a relic of what was once great. Something so powerful had disintegrated with one burning blade, one burning planet. One burning heart.

Something more than brothers. But that bond had died on Mustafar with Anakin.

Without him--

It was one night. It was one night and they were both drunk and it didn’t matter, Anakin was dead and gone and Padmé had gone with him. _He had loved her. He had kept her a secret from everyone, he made every decision on purpose._

_He kept her from you for a reason, Obi-Wan._ He kept her a secret because they were in love and nothing else mattered, not the code, not the council, and definitely not him. The children were proof of that.

Obi-Wan told himself that the silky words that came out of Anakin’s mouth that night meant nothing now. Threats of war and stress in the Council and the Senate had distracted him, and he had let the code slip away from him, for one night. One idiotic decision.

But it was haunting, and the echoes could not be buried deep enough. Every memory was choking. The only thing that remained was images, the memories of who he’d known all his life. The way Anakin’s curls fell about his face, and the way he held himself in battle, the mischievous smile.

Obi-Wan let himself fall apart. Tatooine was a constant memory of the fact that he had failed, that he was the reason why Anakin turned. He disintegrated.

Every Jedi had warned against giving into the grief, but they were just a story now. The war was just a story, now. Everything that he ever lived was just a story to be told across the universe with no attachments. The story of General Kenobi and General Skywalker would be told without regret, without remorse. No one would know what they had given.

It killed him that everything he’d sacrificed would mean nothing. His only legacy was the man who had created Darth Vader, the creature of guilt who made every mistake.

But he was still breathing. That meant something. There was a legacy of Anakin, a memory left behind in two children. The descendants of Skywalker. There was no life left in him, no fight, but there was hope. For the galaxy, and for the children.

The daughter was safe in politics like her mother, and she would be protected. Bail had promised him that. But he took it upon himself to watch over boy. The boy who ached like his father to escape, to fly.

The son of Skywalker would be protected. Eventually the day would come when he would take the path of his father.

Obi-Wan hoped that redemption was still possible for him. Or that he could at least live without repeating the same mistakes. He could put the boy on the right path, he could keep him from the darkness.

It was the only thing he could do, to keep the image of the man he loved in his mind. For years and years he told himself that Darth Vader had killed Anakin, that the man he once knew was killed righteous. That he died without shame.

And eventually, he came to believe it. The story and all it’s half truths became his history. Anakin had died and the image of him was preserved as the man with darkness in his heart, but light always prevailed. Redemption was not too far gone.

And even when he died by Vader’s hand, he believed it.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Part Two; Anakin

The anger was consuming. His mind replayed images of Padmé, of her twinkling laugh, the softness about her, the strength that coursed through her. How she stood up and fought for what she believed. Oh god, oh god. The sadness was consuming.

Anger wasn’t the only thing the Sith felt. Among death and fire, there was an ice that froze him cold, made it hard to move. His body was imprisoned in it.

He felt as if there was lava coursing through his veins, hardening into molten rock and stilling him.   
He was undone. He had given up everything only to lose everything. He had slaughtered and betrayed for what, for this? For the next closest thing to death. The searing mark of his actions was all that was left.

And he was so angry, so unbelievably destructive. The man who he’d loved had turned Padmé against him. He channeled it as he took up his own empire, what he had always wanted. Except for her. Except for him.

You were my brother, I loved you.

_I loved you._

What that meant didn’t matter, because he had loved him that night so many years before, and he loved him still. He hated that he loved him, and he hated Obi-Wan for what he had done. He took away everything from him and left him there to die. He wanted to claw his heart out of his chest and dispose of the thing, because it betrayed him.

“You were all I ever wanted, and you left me to burn!” He felt himself screaming to the emptiness, to the man who he had trusted.

Darth Vader’s rage was fueled by loss. Grief eventually gave way to the purest form of anger, the thirst for destruction and power. And over the years, every year of power and control, a piece of his old self fell away. His old weaknesses were no longer a problem.

But on the day he saw Obi-Wan again, after so many years, -- he regretted the decisions he had made. Because Obi-Wan died without the fight he had expected. The fire inside him had gone out. Maybe he was out of practice, or maybe his age was a toll on him. But there was something wrong about it, the elegance of it.

He had gone with the boy because he knew he could no longer win, not against Vader.

He had known that Darth Vader would kill him.

_If you died by my sword, then I will die by yours._

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Part Three; After the Storm

In the life after life, two old men watched their legacies spread throughout the galaxy. In Luke and in Leia. The heroes of the rebellion.

Friends, brothers, and something more. In the life after life, there was no need for explanation. There was no need for apology.

“Oh, how I have missed you.”

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY IT'S BEEN MORE THAN A WEEK SINCE I POSTED SOMETHING !!! Writer's block has been kicking my butt, and I've spent like 4 days on this because angst is not my writing vein, generally. But hopefully you guys like it!   
>  I always say that kudos and comments mean the world to me, because they do! You guys not only keep me writing, but also help me write better by offering constructive criticism. So if you liked it (or hated it!) please give me your thoughts and feedback!   
>  As always, thank you so so much for reading.   
> All the love,  
> K.C - lovelykenobi


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